


No Normal Man

by Cimm_A



Series: Sterek movie mash up things [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), legend of Tarzan
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Derek as jane, Derek is the damsel, F/M, M/M, Multi, Random - Freeform, Stiles is BAMF, Stiles is a lord, Stiles is tarzan, Tarzan and Jane - Freeform, VERY brief mpreg, because I said so, i dont know, legend of tarzan - Freeform, needed to write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 10:06:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10435305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimm_A/pseuds/Cimm_A
Summary: The Legend of Tarzan only Stiles and Derek as Tarzan and Jane. Derek is the damsel because I wanted it that way.Lord Stiles Stilinski returns to the jungle at the request of a fake invitation from a man filled with greed. Upon his return to his original home things do not stay quiet for long and soon his beloved husband is taken from him and there will be nothing to stop the man of the jungle from finding his love. Nothing and no one will stand in his way. Tarzan has come home.(shitty summary I know)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am alive and have returned! This was on one of my USB so I decided to post what I had. I hope you all like it! And if you are fans of my other work "Vigilant Magic" know that I have not abandoned that story, I am just really busy and will get back to it!  
> And I know there is mistakes in this and tried my best to find errors ok. I have no beta!  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok here it goes!  
> There is an attempt to a sex scene here so you have been warned, its terrible, I tried haha.  
> But I just wanted to post this story might just be five chapters or less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!  
> Please leave a comment, kudos, and subscribe.

The African Congo has been colonized. Colonized the wrong way by ignoring protocol and rules set by the colonial nations of Europe. King Leopold II has laid claim to the Congo by brute force and rapid improvement. The king having borrowed huge amounts of money to finance the construction of railways and other projects leaving him in bankruptcy. Enslaving the native peoples for hard labor and keeping them in line by hired guns it would be only a matter of time before his majesty would be found out. A representative of King Leopold by the name of Deucalion has gone to Africa in hopes of finding a new way to finance his country in order to gain an upper positon, expectantly be the one to govern the Congo “free” state itself and be the hero of his country. Deucalion is now on the search for the fabled diamonds of Opar in order to reach his goal.

* * *

The man dressed in white fiddles with his rosary as he walked through the tall grass. There is a fog about and he looks around taking in his surroundings. There is a tingling sensation in the back of his neck, warning him of the black mass of rock a few meters ahead. He looks at the force publique that came with him, they are young and don’t look like much. The captain looks like the only one that knows what combat really is. There about thirty men excluding himself and one Gatling gun on two wheels. He continues walking and anticipates the point of their journey. It took nearly six months to pin-point the possible location of these fabled diamonds of the Congo. His idiot majesty didn’t plan ahead on his extension of the Belgian rule. However that is fine, from a country boy to governing this state would be a big improvement. Nevertheless Deucalion needed those damn diamonds, Harris back at the harbor town is starting to get on his nerves with the complaint of payment that was due two months ago. His fingertips brush against purple flowers and tugging one, he ripped it off, twirling it between his fingers. They came upon a rock face engulfed in fog and the intensity of the air got worse. The captain steps up in front of the line of men, taking cautious steps. There is a curtain of fog between two cliff faces and nothing can be seen beyond that. They are so far into the rocky terrain that Deucalion realizes they are encircled by rock.

“Men at the ready!” Sure enough the frightened armed men ready their rifles and their leader goes behind the line to direct his men. It is quiet, except for the waterfall and watery steps of the men. Dozens of eyes jump from black surface to black surface. Their faces covered in sweat from the humidity, the captain licks his lips and apparently hearing some sound that others didn’t he barked out an order.

“Fire!”

And the curtain of fog and rock are blasted, Deucalion having just enough time to flinch down a bit and cover his ears. The Gatlin gun was not left out and for about thirty seconds it was all just gunfire. Deucalion couldn’t help but think they should have been a bit louder and grab dynamite to make sure that their presence was actually known. When the firing has stopped no one makes a move to reload, thinking that there is nothing there. Deucalion slowly straightens and in doing so looks up, then slowly makes his way to the captain giving him a tap on the shoulder. When the other man looks at him he points up. What the captain sees is tribesmen with spears circling around them feet above them on rocks. Before the captain can give another order a spear of the opposite direction impales itself through one of the men. Then it is utter chaos tribesmen appear from their feet and begin to slaughter the intruders. Some manage to kill off one or two of the locals but it means nothing. The tribesmen in white paint use shields, bow and arrow, spears, and their bare hands to win. Deucalion manages to hide under two shields of dead tribesmen, after tripping and falling into the water, in order to cover from the arrows. They thudded against the shield and he crouched down to make himself smaller, less parts of him to be hit. Some men give up in the fight and try to run away.

“Come back!” The captain shouts as he unsheathes his saber, looking utterly shocked and incredulous. Deucalion hasn’t looked up from under the shields but he knows those who tried to run are dead and in the shallow water. He turns to the direction where he heard the captain’s voice. Out of the fog a tribesman comes out and attacks the armed man, he swings the weapon but it is blocked easily. He tries again but this time he doesn’t block quick enough and is sliced across the throat. Deucalion can hear him struggling for air but he sees red drip to the water and then a body splash.

It is quiet once again.

Blinking away the water from his eyes he slowly stands straight and lowers the shields. Swallowing a lump in his throat he looks around and sees he is in a tighter circle, surrounded by natives. Deucalion crouches into a position ready to defend himself. He drops one shield and turns the other in his hand when he hears a shout to his right. He dodges to the right but it is not enough, the shield is tossed from his hand. The force was enough to cause him to stumble but he was lucky enough to be prepared for the next attack. Taking the rosary from his hand, he evades his attacker and wraps the rosary around the tribesman’s neck and pulls. The assailant falls and begins to gasp for air and trying to get the rosary off. However, the more he struggles the tighter the thing gets, his brothers try to help but it’s no use it continues to tighten. Four men were going to attack but then one barked something in a language he didn’t understand. The circle broke apart for one man to come through. Deucalion looked at the man and knew he was the one he was looking for. The man with an air of authority and danger looked at Deucalion as if he was a disease to his land. He had the head of a dead leopard on his head, dried and eyes preserved as a head piece that ran down his shoulders and back.

Clearing his throat and fixing his suit jacket he gave the chief a brief smile, “Chief Mbonga I presume?”

Chief Mbonga took a defensive step forward and looking suspicious and curious he asked, “How do you know my name?”

Again Deucalion gave a smile, “Doing a bit of digging around and well, I am here mainly for talk of a possible truce.”

The chief smirked and shook his head, “No you are here for,” slowly bringing his arm up in a closed fist, he opens it and reveals three large diamonds, “This.”

Deucalion gives a small shrug, “Yes.”

“You may have them but for a price.” Mbonga said walking sideways and eyes Deucalion who was giving glances to the diamonds in his hands.

“There is something that is past due, something that is rightfully mine to take. I am looking for someone. If you find that someone and bring them to me then you can have your diamonds.”

Now that is something that Deucalion can do easily, with a lift of an eyebrow and a devilish smile he leaned forward, “All I need is a name.”

Satisfied with his answer Chief Mbonga looked smug and placed the stones into Deucalion’s hand. Now all that’s left was to wait.

* * *

 

Back in London a meeting with his majesty representatives and Lord Sławomir Stilinski II was going under way. A group of white haired old men were crowded at the middle of the long table talking eagerly at the man sitting at the head of the table. The young Lord looked amused at the elders and stirs the cup of tea that was placed in front of him. Two weeks ago he got a letter of importance with the royal seal arrived at his home. In it was her majesty’s word asking for a meeting requiring his presence to discuss some matter that would help benefit the country. That was it, no other details besides a date, time, and location. He was reluctant to go and he was exhausted, too many places that wanted his appearance the past week he just wanted to spend some time at home with his husband. In fact he was here speaking to these men _because_ of his husband. Derek thought it would be a good idea and really he was just curious to what they would ask of him. And honestly he was curious too, and he considered his curiosity his best trait for if he had no curiosity he would have never met Derek.

So when he arrived at the location this morning he nodded his head to another man who sat at the side holding a plate of walnuts, younger than the others and probably around his age. Before he could even shake the man’s hand one of the older men shook it and proceeded to heard him to the table where he currently sits. He wanted to laugh at the men in front of him they were cluttered in a group all pointing and mumbling at a chart one had. The one with said chart started to speak again trying to make his point across. Mind him, Sławomir gave him his full attention.

“It is a good opportunity for our-your country to take advantage of this opportunity. To be a part of the work King Leopold is doing.”

The Lord’s eyes moved to the others who all nodded in agreement before the main man spoke again, “It is crucial and can be a great investment for you and for the crown in the long run.”

A loud snort followed by a walnut being cracked caught everyone’s attention. The old men looked at the other young man in the room with disbelief while the young Lord gave a small smile.

“Let us remind you Mr. McCall that you are a guest here.”

McCall rolled his eyes and waved them off before he stands, places the plate of nuts down and casually walks over to their group.

“If you’re not going to do it then I will Mr. Wright” Then he turned to speak to the Lord, huh, hearing him speak the man must have been American.

“What my esteemed friends are trying to say is that you are Tarzan. With that information they want to make use of you to make a profit.”

Before the old men could argue McCall continued to talk, “You are Lord of the Apes, King of the Jungle. Tarzan! Tarzan. Also as in Tarzan and Derek! Man of the Jungle! And they need you as their ticket in to profit. You can even consider it as a free trip back home! So what do say?”

With eyebrows lifted Lord Stilinski lifts the saucer and takes the cup bringing it to his lips. Without taking his stare off them he takes a long sip, then placing it all back down on the table he takes a breath and says,

“No.”

“No?!” The others repeat in incredulity and clearly it looked like they didn’t expect him to decline their offer.

Lord Stilinski gives them a small but genuine smile and stands fixing his coat then addresses the others, “I understand what you gentlemen want to do but I decline.” He moved away from the chair and went to leave but not before leaning in towards McCall.

“And my name is not Tarzan it is Lord Mieczysław Stilinski II, third heir to the Stilinski name, and part of the Lord council or if that is too much of a mouthful, as my husband is so fond of calling me, Stiles. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

With that he gave one last small bow and walked out of the building, mulling the meeting over in his head. He isn’t sure if he should even tell Derek what it was about because he knows his husband would start packing right away to get back and visit the tribe he grew up in while his mother Talia Hale a scientist was working there. He walked out of the building and looked around quickly wanting to find his coachman, when he did he started walking towards that. Suddenly a voice that belonged to McCall called to him. He didn’t exactly stop and turn around to listen and apparently that only seemed to get McCall on his heels. However, he manage to beat the other man by getting into his carriage. The crooked chinned man nearly crashed into the side of the carriage door.

“Listen Mr. McCall I-“

“Scott, Lord Stilinski, call me Scott.”

“Then call me Stiles I’ve had enough of people call me Lord and desecrating my first name. Only my grandfather and husband can properly pronounce that.”

Both of them gave a small chuckle before they got serious once again. It would be nice to have another friend outside of the mansion. Scott cleared his throat and looked a bit sheepish before speaking.

“I wasn’t entirely honest with why I was there in the first place.”

“Oh?” Stiles said looking straight ahead at the other seat inside the coach.

“Listen, do you find this situation in anyway suspicious?” Stiles looked back at Scott, well of course it was a bit suspicious but he couldn’t pin point what it was.

“How the hell does a bankrupt king manage to continue production and manages to hide how he is exactly doing everything from the rest of the world?”

Looking at Stiles in the eye he said, “Slaves Stiles.”

Stiles clenched his jaw, he had hoped that wasn’t it and he wished so much for the tribe he came to love and care for was not part of that. He certainly didn’t want Derek to be a part of that even though Stiles knew his husband was more than capable of defending himself but still.

“King Leopold has probably a good amount of them in his claws and he is looking for more and you getting invited there is my ticket to getting the proof I need to stop him. Please, if you won’t do it to help those old geezers, which is completely understandable, do it for the place and the people you grew up with.”

Tightening his jaw even more, Stiles looked away staring straight ahead. Something tugged at his heart. It wasn’t the jungle nor the people he only left, he left his family too. So breathing in deeply he nodded and tapped the coach ceiling twice. Scott smiled from ear to ear and jumped off.

“I’ll see you in Liverpool in a month’s time then!”

* * *

 

Stiles closes his eyes half way home then thought of how he got where he was, here and now. John Stilinski and his wife Claudia were two of the three survivors of a shipwreck after a storm. The third member was some ship hand but John knew he didn’t live long with what the jungle is and is home to. At the time Stiles’ mother was four months pregnant with him. After getting a respectable and through education, which he caught quickly, it amazed himself that the woman that birthed him survived long enough to bring him to the world. He doesn’t dwell too much of the thought of ‘mother,’ he had two of them and both were important, it’s just he knew one more than he did the other and only knew of this one for the most of his early life. Stiles decided all this was giving him a headache, every time he thought of this he would either get a headache or a heartache sometimes both. Usually both, but he would endure it because he had Derek at his side and speaking of said husband, Stiles was nearing his home. A large mansion that was passed down to him by his grandfather, who was currently residing in Manchester for a well-deserved break as he put it. He remembers the day that he met the old man, his grandfather busted out in tears hugging him tightly and saying he got a piece of his son and beloved daughter in law back. It’s been seven years since he arrived in England he is twenty-six years old, but when his grandfather Mieczysław Q. Stilinski treated him as if he was five. Which made sense since the world was unfamiliar and a bit frightening. Stiles knows a high level of mathematics, politics, literature, speaks at least three other languages and other educational topics all thanks to Johan’s, the butler, and Derek’s patience in teaching him.

As he got to the front of the mansion he decides on not telling Derek about the meeting yet not until he sent a letter to his grandfather asking for advice. The coach door opened and he stepped off, nodding in thanks. He fixed his coat and walked passed his head butler Johan.

“Where is he?”

Knowing his master spoke of his husband the young mans smiled and opened the door allowing the other to enter first.

“Master Derek is in the ballroom entertaining some children. Remember today was the day he scheduled a small gathering for families to come and enjoy themselves my Lord.”

“Thank you Johan.” With a small bow the butler left and Stiles proceeded to the large room where he was hearing his husband’s voice. Derek would do these gatherings at least twice a month, so everyone can gather and relax from their everyday lives and bond with each other. It was another thing he loved about Derek. He stopped a few feet from the open doors and just watched his beloved. Derek was sitting in a chair with children seated on the floor around him. Stiles smiled to himself and looked at his beautiful husband who was so into talking with the young ones. A flash back went through his head of him hiding in the thick vegetation of the jungle looking at the back of a younger Derek counting against the trunk of a large tree. He was playing hide-and-seek with the natives of the tribe he grew up in. Derek’s voice broke him out of his day dream.

“Can anyone tell me, which is the most dangerous mammal in Africa, one that is so strong it can break a crocodile’s back?”

About a dozen little hands shot up into the air, it made Derek laugh exquisitely and Stiles fall in love with him even more than possible.

“Let’s see, Annabelle?”

“Is it the hippopotamus?”

Derek clapped his hands and a large smile radiated from him, “Very good!”

Then Derek’s eyes caught Stiles and his smile became one of love.

“Can anyone tell me what my favorite bird sounds like?”

There was plenty of “ums” and children looking at each other trying to figure out Mr. Stilinski-Hale’s favorite bird sound. Derek hyphened his last name but insisted that Stiles remain just Stilinski in order to honor his family and to keep bigot idiots of high society from complaining. Stiles didn’t like it but he grudgingly accepted it. Derek didn’t mind when he was just called Mr. or Sir Stilinski. Stiles sucked in a bit of breath and whistled out a song of the African Yellow Canary. The whistles sounded around the large ballroom making it seem as if it was many birds. The children’s heads snapped around the room until they all spotted Stiles and immediately jumped up to surround him. In less than a minute he was surrounded by the little ones asking one question after another that he couldn’t make sense of it. He knew Derek set him up when he looked up and spotted him leaning on the door frame hiding a smile behind a hand.

“Look at his hands!” a high pitched voice shouted above the others and all of a sudden a collective “oooh” sounded the room followed by complete silence.

Clearing his voice a little he curled his fists and his hand changes to a bit larger and form different from a regular fist. “I grew up running on all fours, it changed the bone structure.”

Crouching down he demonstrated how exactly he did that, the floor met with the bend of the proximal phalanges and his thumb. The young ones where fascinated by it.

“Do you take the stairs?” One asked and Stiles staring at Derek replied with,

“No, in fact I rather climb a tree to the second floor.” Bless them for not getting it, but he smirked when he saw Derek blush and give him a glare.

A little girl tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, “Is it true your mum was a monkey?”

Derek’s smile fell and looked away, Stiles felt his heart drop somewhat but he gave the little girl a quick smirk, “Of course not.”

After that he joined Derek with the others and mingled. Helping his employees with this and that. He held Derek’s waist as they bid their guests good bye. The maids and butlers were dismissed and the front door was closed. Ever so slowly Derek turned to fully face him, though he was four years older than Stiles and had more scruff, Stiles didn’t love him any less. Derek would get mad at the two inch difference between them but never complained when he was underneath Stiles. Taking Stiles’ face between his hands and giving him a quick kiss he began to grill him for answers.

“How did it go?”

“Fine, how was your morning.”

“Fine, what did they want?”

Leaning his forehead against Derek’s he answered with a white lie, “They wanted to know if I would help them back in London with negotiation preparations for Africa.”

Derek’s eyes lit up, “Well? What did you say?”

“I told them I would think about it.”

“You should say yes.”

“I’ll think about it.” He smirked and Derek glared at him then gave him another quick kiss before beginning to walk towards the stairs, holding Stiles’ hand in his.

Stiles sighed happily and just followed after the man he loved.

“I love you.” He said and Derek stopped just as he reached the top. Stiles was still at least two steps below him so it made Derek taller. Derek leaned down wrapping his arms around Stiles’ neck and Stiles was tracing every line of Derek’s face. His eyes ultimately landed on Derek’s lips.

“As I love you.”

Those lips met his in a burning slow kiss. Though Derek has a bit more muscle than Stiles, Stiles was stronger than him, especially after being raised in the jungle with gorillas that were the most dangerous, so lifting the other was no problem. Stiles lifted Derek up without breaking the deepening kiss, his feet a foot off the ground. When they got to their room Derek decided to break the kiss, but Stiles didn’t want to let go. Every time Derek wanted to go so he could get ready for bed Stiles would bring him back for another kiss and then another.

“Stiles.” Another kiss, “Let me,” and another, “get ready,” again, “for bed.”

Biting Derek’s neck and growling like a jaguar he let go and his husband went to the adjoining bathroom. Stiles left to his office to start on the letter to his grandfather, while waiting for the bathroom to become unoccupied. He sat and took out parchment and a quill with ink well and began to write. It started off light since his grandfather was a joker, then he went serious explaining the situation and asking for advice. Taking out a red candle and the Stilinski seal out, after folding and placing the letter in an envelope, he dripped red wax onto the back and sealed it shut. He opened a locked drawer to place the letter in it, to remember to send it off in the morning. After he placed the letter he noticed the small gift he purchased three years ago. It was a pair of infant shoes, delicately made. He was to be a father twice, but twice ended up in miscarriage. He was devastated but Derek was destroyed by it. Twice he had Stiles’ child in his womb and twice he lost them. He would be out of it for days and Stiles had to coax him back to life ever so slowly. But he managed to do it. He lived for Derek’s smile and laughter, never wanting Derek to be drowned in sorrow. They both blamed themselves of course but neither of them would say it out loud.

This year there was no pregnancy and they have tried but nothing. Honestly Stiles is afraid that they would have a third miscarriage. He remembered the first time he got the news that he would be a father. He was ecstatic and just filled to the brim with joy, never leaving Derek’s side for a moment. There was barely a small swell in Derek’s abdomen when on a spring afternoon, he woke up screaming and bleeding. Derek didn’t stop crying for two days and for another three was void of any emotion. When he heard footsteps in the hall, Stiles quickly but carefully placed the shoes back in the drawer and locked it up. He just stood when Derek opened the door and walked in. He wore a deep blue silk robe.

“Come babe, let’s get ready for bed.”

Stiles turned the lights out and he followed Derek back to their bedroom. He pulled out long grey sleeping pants and took his deep red robe from a chair and went to change. He brushed his teeth and washed his face then finally changed. It was a good thing he was not meeting Scott until a month. It would take a week for the letter to reach Manchester and five days for a reply to return. Rubbing his temples he runs a hand through his hair. It’s long but not as long as it used to be. He stepped out of the bathroom and noticed that Derek wasn’t in the room, he shrugged must have gone for a glass of water or something. He then progressed on getting the bed ready, when that was done he removed the robe and threw it on the chair it was on originally, no point in that really. He sat on the bed patiently waiting on Derek.

He leaned his head against a bed post and closed his eyes. The sounds of the jungle making its way to his ears. The sound of leaves in the wind, roars of lions, the thundering of waterfalls. He swears if he took a deep enough breath he could smell the fresh water and feel the humidity on his skin. Then cool hands again found their way to either side of his face, he didn’t open his eyes still. This is something they used to do often when Stiles was scared and confused after his first two months here. Derek would tell him to close his eyes and question his senses of when he lived in the jungle as a coping mechanism, it worked in more ways than one.   

“What do you see?” Derek’s deep voice asked.

“Green, so much green in different shades. Browns of branches and trunks. Paws of predators and tusks of the wise. Sunlight filtering through the leaves. The brightness of the stars. Huts of those we knew and eyes of those only I knew. Running through it all. Lastly, you.”

He felt Derek place his legs on either side of his waist, straddling him and not taking his hands away from Stiles’ face.

“Alright.” Then he felt his husband’s breath in his ear. “What do you hear?” He whispered.

Placing his hands on Derek’s waist, he started rubbing circles with his thumb on the silk robe.

“I hear birds, like your canary. Songs of your tribe family. Roars of the kings and queens and the cries of their prey. The rustling of the leaves, droplets of rain, and howling of the wind. The roar of my brother and band. The sound of your voice counting, calling me, and saying my name.”

A lingering kiss on the lips, “saying I love you. You forgot that.”

Stiles chuckled and placed his nose to Derek’s neck, inhaling him in. Intoxicating himself and wanting to drown in the smell. He felt a slight vibration of Derek’s vocal chords when he spoke.

“What do you smell?” By now the hands on his face where now running through his hair.

Inhaling and then exhaling he answered, “I smell smoke from fires and the cooking of meat. The smell of rain just before it falls. Fresh air and fresh water. Flowers in full bloom. The smell of freshly cut fruit. Wet dirt was a favorite.”

“Oh? What is your favorite scent now?”

Stiles kissed Derek’s neck four times before answering, “Yours.”

“What do I smell like to you?”

He bit Derek and got a small groan in return, “Like the jungle, like fresh rain with a small tinge of sweat. Sweet and like home. Most of all you smell like me.”

Stiles then felt the silk robe go slack and pile on top of his hands. Derek removed the knot and soon the silk material was gone from his hands. The only thing that was heard was the sound of their breathing. Stiles’ hands began to roam over Derek’s torso, starting from the hips up to his stomach and then lightly brushing over Derek’s nipples. A hitched breath gave him motivation to start peppering kisses on Derek’s shoulder down to his chest. He gave a sharp bite to a nipple and was rewarded with a moan. He gave himself a pat on the back for keeping his eyes closed.

“What do you feel?” Derek’s managed to say breathlessly.

“The ground beneath my hands and feet. The roughness of the vines and bark. The air as it passes through my fingers and hair. The coarse skin of my family and their fur. The coolness of water and scratches made by branches. The soreness of a fight or a flight. The pain of broken bones and bruises. The fear of survival and the strength of surviving. The curiosity when I first laid eyes on you. Your love every time you look at me. Your skin beneath my hands and the twists of your body.”

He manages to find Derek’s lips and kisses him. “Your lips on mine.”

Derek kisses him roughly and Stiles bucks his hips up causing a longer moan to come from Derek. Placing his hands back on his husband’s hips Stiles bites his lips as Derek begins to move and grab handfuls of Stiles’ hair. He could already feel the blood start to pool and his member start to rub against Derek.

“What ahh,” Derek moans, “do you taste?”

Stiles tightens his grip, “I taste crisp cool water. Fruit and meat I manage to get. The copper taste of blood in my mouth. Dirt during a skirmish or a fall. The saltiness of sweat as it dripped down my face.” Smirking he licks a line up Derek’s neck until he felt the prickles of his scruff against his tongue. “I taste you, every inch of you.”

Not waiting for Derek to say anything else he tears at the fabric covering the rest of his husband. Then quickly flips them over so Derek lays on the bed, eyes now open and roaming. Stiles stands to remove his clothing and leans over Derek.

“Stiles, please.” His husband pleads while trying to drag Stiles down to kiss him. Stiles gives into the pull and then tongue meets tongue in a filthy wet kiss. “More.” Derek breaths against him, “Give me more.”

So he does as he is demanded, Stiles kisses his way down to the quivering member. He licks it slowly up and Derek’s breath wavers with moans. Stiles palms his own erection, already throbbing with want to bury it deep in Derek. Wanting to make him scream and demand for more. The first time they had sex was about four months before Stiles proposed to Derek. Needless to say he had more energy than Derek expected, they went at it for hours, and Derek couldn’t get up the next morning.

Stiles took Derek into his mouth and sucked. Derek moaned loudly and lifted one leg over Stiles’ right shoulder and a hand gripped his hair. Stiles began to bob his head and the hand tightened its grip.

“Stiles mmm, don’t stop.”

Derek’s hips began to thrust up and Stiles took it all. He didn’t want to give Derek pleasure just in this way, in fact he expected Derek to come only from his dick. He pulled away his lips coming off with a pop and Derek giving a soft whine. He was about to move to get some oil but Derek managed to grab his hand before he moved too far.

“Don’t. I want to feel every inch bare, every feeling. The pain of it and the pleasure.”

That just made Stiles want to consume him right then and there. Lowering himself down he felt his shoulders go taut and he lowered his head more. Mimicking the way a jaguar in the jungle might blend in and stalk its prey. Taking a deep breath he began to growl like the animal, looking Derek in the eye. Derek in turn licked his lips and began to spread his legs, giving Stiles a view that made his mouth water.

The puckering hole was winking at him every time Derek inhaled. He pounced and bit the inside of Derek’s thigh hard earning him a surprised shout.

“Stiles!”

“It’s your fault for tempting me so.”

“Hurry and just stick it in me!”

Stiles bit the inside of Derek’s thigh again only this time he sucked and licked the red skin, making sure to leave a mark for the next two days. This action caused Derek’s back to arch.

“You are no Lord but a bastard who only teases.” Derek gasped out.

Stiles chuckles and took his hands to spread Derek’s cheeks apart to get to the main goal.

“Well what ar-” Derek finished his sentence with a scream as Stiles began to lick him open. Tongue moving in and out rapidly. He pushed his mouth more so his tongue can reach even deeper. Stiles looked up to see Derek rub his nipples trying to keep his moans in. God he looked so beautiful, so full of want and need. Sucking the pink area, he spat into the hole and with no warning shoved two fingers in. Derek arched in a silent scream and the throaty moans erupted as Stiles began to thrust those fingers in and out quickly.

“A little ngh! Warning would have been nice!”

“If I did do that I wouldn’t have gotten those beautiful sounds out of you.”

Stiles twisted his fingers and then pressed on a certain location, it made Derek’s whole body spasm.

“There! Right there!”

Stiles pressed down hard and so painfully slowly dragged his fingers out. Derek’s eyes rolled back and a look of total bliss covered his face. A sigh of pure ecstasy escaped Derek’s lips just as Stiles’ fingers were out of his opening. By now both their bodies were beginning to heat up completely and Derek pulled Stiles in for a kiss. However, while Derek was distracted in the kiss hoping to gather himself before Stiles penetrated him, Stiles decided to surprise him. With their lips interlocked Stiles positioned himself and without warning thrusted about half way into Derek. Derek’s head snapped back and a painful gasp came out of him. His body arched as quickly as an arrow being released from the bow and his eyes rolling into the back of his head yet again. Derek’s fingers on Stiles’ shoulders gripped hard enough that they were shaking. Stiles breathed heavily and waited for Derek to tell him to continue. His husband came down from the shock and sudden entrance of Stiles penetrating him. The sounds that erupted from Derek as he came down from the jolt were half moans and half screams. The grip on his shoulders loosened but not by much.

“Stiles,” Derek panted, “what happened to patience?” He smiled in a pleasure drunkly way. Stiles gave him a smile worthy of the African predators. Derek then wrapped his legs around Stiles’ torso.

“Give me the rest.”

Bracing one arm beside Derek’s head and the other on his waist, Stiles began to push the rest of the way in. Derek gasped with every inch in and shaky moans joined in. Stiles groaned in bliss as Derek tightened himself around Stiles. When he was all the way in the only warning he gave Derek was a hard bite to the shoulder before he started to pull out and then roughly thrusted in again. Right off he went on a brutal pace, the posts of the bed began to move with each thrust. Both of them beginning to shine with sweat and the harsh slapping of skin and obscene sounds and loud moans covered the room. Derek was meeting him thrust for thrust gasping out small “yes’” and “more.” And really who was Stiles to deny his husband? Pulling out he managed to turn Derek over onto his back, lifting his hips and sliding back in before Derek could complain. Derek stretched his hands forward and gripped the sheets. Stiles leaned down and kissed right between Derek’s shoulder blades. Going back up, he slowed down his thrusts and slapped Derek’s hand when he tried to reach for his own release.

“No, you’ll come just from this.” He pulled out but not entirely, placing a good grip on Derek’s hips. “Just.” He thrusted in roughly then slowly retracted, “Like.”  Again thrusting, then pulling out, and Derek grunted with the second thrust. “This.” A raw shout erupted from Derek followed and Stiles pulled him back so his chest met Derek’s back, and caught him in a scorching kiss.

Pulling apart and breathing heavily against each other Derek said, “I’m close, I’m so close.”

Stiles grunted in agreement and slowly pushed Derek back down to finish. He watched the sweat bead on Derek’s skin and ran his hands from Derek’s shoulders down to his hips before starting up an achingly pleasurable slow thrust that he knew made Derek insane. Slowly but surely he made his way up to fast thrust. Derek was tensing around him and he was right behind. He was going to pull out when Derek shook his head.

“No, don’t pull out! Give it to me all. Please.”

One final thrust he came and so did Derek. His husband releasing all over the sheets and he inside of Derek. Both moaned raw with Stiles sounding animalistic. Chests heaving for air and bodies dripping with sweat in the aftermath. With his forehead pressed to Derek’s back Stiles was coming down from his high. He slowly slid out with Derek giving a hitching breath. Stiles plopped himself on the bed and looked at Derek. His husband also laid himself down still breathing hard, Stiles laid his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek gave a small chuckle and lifted Stiles hand to his lips, kissing it.

“I love you” Derek says as he now plays with Stiles’ calloused fingers and Stiles smiles and replies,

“As I love you.”

They talk for a while more before they both fall asleep. The next day arrives and Stiles had decided that he should tell Derek about the whole meeting he had with the old fools. He was reluctant to say anything else because Derek would want to go back and visit the tribe and the jungle without a moment’s hesitation. He shifted in bed with a sigh and just noticed that Derek was not in bed. He was probably making breakfast, he enjoyed cooking and would ignore the maids and butler when they say they will cook. Getting out of bed Stiles slid his under garments and pajama bottoms on and made his way to the kitchen. Sure enough there was Derek at the stove so Stiles walked to stand behind him. Wrapping his arms around Derek and putting his chin on Derek’s shoulder he happily sighed.

“Smells good.” Stiles says and Derek snorts.

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“You have a point.”

“Shut up and go sit down.”

With a fake salute to his commander Derek and like a dutiful devoted soldier he went to the dining area and took his seat at the head of the table. Two maids came and placed small dishes and drinks at the table just as Derek came out with two plates. Setting one of the plates in front of him Derek took a seat to Stiles’ right. Stiles stared at his food and was thinking on how to tell Derek about the work in Africa but it was harder than he thought.

“Stiles?” Stiles lifted his head to look at a worried Derek.

“Is there something wrong? Are you not hungry?”

Stiles shook his head, “No, Derek I’m fine. Just thinking about what I need to do today.”

He took up his knife and fork and began to eat, Derek glared at him for a moment before he too began to eat. Stiles decided that later, possibly in the evening that he will tell Derek. The day ended up coming to a close rather quickly and he despised that. He stood outside Derek’s study and raised his hand to knock but decided against it and proceeded to pace the hall. Stiles was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice Derek leaning on the door frame to his study looking at Stiles with the most amused face and arms crossed.

“You know keep doing that and you just might go through the flooring idiot.”

Stiles jumped, and sheepishly smiled at Derek. Derek, in turn smiled at his odd husband and beckoned him to the study. Stiles followed Derek and found himself under the infamous Derek Hale glare which made him shift on his feet.

“You’ve been like this all day Stilinski. Now spit it out.”

‘Well here goes nothing,’ thought Stiles and took a breath,

“The meeting I had with the elderly fools was actually them wanting to use me as a ticket for them to Africa. Apparently King Leopold has sent me an invitation to see all the work that has been done there. Though a Scott McCall has said something otherwise and it is actually a great concern that I want to check up on. So I might have to leave home for a while.”

It was just after he finished talking that he realized that Derek’s face was filled with excitement.

“Well what are we waiting for? We need to start packing!’ Derek exclaimed as he walked out of the room and headed to their bedroom, calling out to a maid and the butler as he went.

“No Derek, not us..” But it was no use Derek was eager to get started packing even though the trip was still weeks away. With a frustrated sigh he proceeded to follow after Derek at a fast pace. When he got to their rooms Derek had three suit cases out and was packing for the both of them.

“Derek, the trip is at a month’s time so there is no reason to pack right now and an-“

“So what Stiles? When the time come then we can just go since we will be ready.”

“But Derek I-”

Derek would not let him have a word in this because of all the excitement.

“Erica and Boyd must be married already, how many children do you think they have already? And Isaac, I am sure he grew up well especially with a sister like Erica. What about the chief I hope he is well, I can’t wait to go home.”

Stiles had enough, he stopped following his husband all over the room, and in a stern voice said,

“You’re not going Derek.”

Derek stopped with pants in both hands and turned to Stiles,

“Of course I’m going.”

“No, you’re not.”

There was a tick in Derek’s jaw and again the arms were crossed. Stiles swallowed though he was the one raised by the jungle his husband always managed to make him cave in with uneasiness, in a good way.

“You know I am perfectly capable of protecting myself and what is the harm of going? No harm! None! Whatsoever! You have no right to tell me I cannot go.” Derek practically growled that out.

Stiles rubbed his temple, now he’s done it. “Derek I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I grew up there just like you did, I know what is out there just as much as you.”

“Derek it has nothing to do with that I just want you here alright?”

Derek ignored him and proceeded to pack again, taking shirts to the suitcases that waited on the bed. Stiles walked over and started moving his arms and hands everywhere and anywhere to grasp an answer to this mess.

“I am going with or without you.”

“I just want you safe. Who knows what may have changed.”

At that Derek stopped and walked to Stiles, taking his hands to the side of Stiles’ face. Derek leaned in and kissed Stiles as arms wrapped around him.

“I will be fine, just like how I was before I met you.”

“We just lost another child Derek, I thought maybe you’d want to stay home and-“

A growl escaped Derek and he roughly removed himself from Stiles, “Just what Stiles?! Do you think I need a reminder about what we lost? This might be good for us to go home.”

Stiles lost his patience and yelled, “THIS IS OUR HOME.” Derek was breathing hard from anger and Stiles tried t reel it in.

“This is where we belong and that’s that.” And with that Stiles walked out of the room locking the door behind him.

As he walked away he heard Derek shout, “You can’t keep me locked in here!”

Walking to the other side of the mansion Stiles took a few quail eggs and took them to a private area of the enormous home. He placed the eggs on the desk and crouched down to a chest covered in dust and cob webs. Opening it he took out a stone of ember and a flash of memory came onto him.

_It was he and his brother Akut in the man-made hut in the trees. He was a child at the time and his brother was young as well, both just curious. The hut was old and falling apart to the harsh environment of the Congo. He was sniffing and looking for something interesting on the floor. Then all of a sudden Kerchak’s roar echoed through the jungle. The massive Gorilla then came bursting into the hut and Stiles or Tarzan at the time started screaming and ran for the first opening he saw. Throwing himself out he managed to catch himself with a vine but Kerchak was right behind him. Landing on a thick branch the young Tarzan ran to get away, he never really understood why the gorilla didn’t welcome him as easily as the others did at first. Deciding on something before he got killed the boy fell to the ground in a fetal position, arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Kerchak came at a stop just behind his back, then leaned down and roared right at the shivering boy. The animal beat his chest in dominance and then huffed and finally walked away. However, the boy remained in his positon even when his brother came to nudge him telling him it was alright. Kala, his mother came and ever so gently gathered him in her arms. She placed an ember stone in his hand to which he gripped tight and with that same hand held onto his mother._

_His mother…_

As the fading memory left he took hold of a leather journal and sat with it at a small desk. He cracked one of the eggs and proceeded to drink it raw. Throwing the shell away he read what was on the journal.

‘ _Journal of John Stilinski’_

He might not have met his father or biological mother but what he heard of them, he knew they were good people. People that would do anything for each other. With a heavy heart he opened it to a random page in the journal and began to read.

‘ _The jungle consumes everything. It preys on the old, the sick,_

_The wounded. It preys on the weak, but never the strong. I have_

_Done all I can to protect my family. We have been surrounded by_

_Predators. I fear we will never survive.’_

That was all that was written in one page. He flipped over four more pages until he read about his mother getting sick. She was terribly ill and John voiced his concerns in his writing until two pages later he wrote:

_‘Today I buried my wife. Today I buried my Claudia,_

_Now I fear for my own child.’_

That was the second last thing John Stilinski wrote, the final piece of writing was a letter to his son.

_‘It is with great hope in my heart that you escape from_

_This place. You do not belong here you belong with_

_Others of our kind. I pray to anyone listening that you_

_My son will be saved. You are the third heir to_

_The Stilinski name and you are my son._

_Never forget that._

Of course it took a while for him to read all of this. It took a while for it all to sink in the first time. He rolled the smooth stone in his hand and stared hard at the words on the pages. What is he to do? He fears of what will happen when he returns. He fears of the changes that may have occurred. He fears of McCall’s statements are true. But most of all he fears that something will happen to Derek if they go. At times like these he wished his grandfather were here to give him some kind of advice. He knows his father was killed by the same apes he had grown with. Beaten to death, man vs animal and the animal had won. He didn’t blame them though, he knew not where he came from until he met Derek. Thinking of his husband was giving him a head ache and he knows he will not be welcomed in their bedroom. He placed the stone and journal back in the chest and blew out the candles.

* * *

A week and a half later, Derek was still not talking to him. He was allowed back into the bedroom but that was it, even getting a kiss from his husband seemed impossible. They were eating breakfast when Johan came in with the mail. Derek was seated at the other long side of the table. He tried making small talk but failed even that, before he could touch his meal Johan came to his side of the table and bent to whisper in his master’s ear while handing him a letter.

“From the elder Stilinski my lord.”

“Thank you Johan.”

He decided that breakfast wasn’t worth it this morning and went back to his small private area to read the letter. Opening it up it started with his grandfather calling him an idiot for not telling Derek the truth right away. He even insisted that he take his husband and like Derek mentioned that it might be best for the both of them returned. However, it was the last line that got his attention and cleared his mind.

_‘You may not like who you were, you may have enemies_

_There, but you need to go home.’_

Discarding his shoes and slipping on his robe he headed outside to find Derek. His husband was in an old tree. Sitting on a thick branch looking out into the slight morning fog. Stiles walked to him and with one arm pulled himself up the branch. One leg on either side of the limb and facing his husband, whose green eyes pierced right through him. He stretched out a hand to Derek in a slightly bent position as a sign of peace. Derek took his hand to his own rubbing circles on it. Stiles looked him straight in the eyes before he spoke.

“Promise you will stay by my side at all times?”

Derek didn’t say anything but nodded in agreement and seeing that Stiles slouched a bit and nodded as well. Derek moved to straddle him to give Stiles a passionate kiss. They were going back. Both of them were going back home.

* * *

 Deucalion was walking around the port of the town he came to reside in. The day came when Tarzan was due to come home. Barts, the annoying short man, had already cornered him on a boat earlier that day about payment for the mercenaries he wanted. He had the nerve to threaten Deucalion by exposing him if payment was not due.

“Allow me to assure you Barts that payment will be made,” he placed a large diamond on the table and headed toward the door, “Just make sure you get all that I ask for.”

Now here he was going to the dock master to see the register of passengers that had arrived since he found it odd that Tarzan was not spotted it.

“Sir.” One of his men said handing him a log book. He found the name he was looking for but what he wasn’t intending to find was the name of ‘Derek Hale-Stilinski’ and one ‘Scott McCall.’ It seemed that things won’t got quietly after all, then again he hadn’t expected anything about this to go quiet.

“It seems that our honored guests jumped ship for their own trip back home. Get the boat ready if we take this route,” he points to a worn out map, “We can reach it just before dawn.”

* * *

 

“You might be a great shooter Scott but I can guarantee that I can do better with that rifle.”

“Oh is that so? Well my lord I would love to see you prove me wrong.”

Stiles smiled as Derek and Scott were chatting away. It was good to see they got along well though Derek was a little unsure of him at first. It wasn’t until Scott explained what’s going on that Derek had warmed up to him. It was so good to be back under the blazing sun. He and Derek laughed when Scott was sweating profusely while the two of them where dry and fine. The sounds of animals all around him lessened a hold on his heart he never knew he had. Just as they were going, coming up on a hill Stiles slowed.

“Derek.”

Derek held back Scott as he watched Stiles put his pack on the ground and lower himself as well.

“What is he-“but Derek hushed Scott just in time for three lions to come from the other side. Stiles slowly made his way to them and one of the large cats sniffed him. It was then, that all three began to rub against Stiles and Stiles to rub against them.

A soft smile spread on Derek’s face, “He knew them since they were cubs.” He said to a confused Scott who looked on in awe.

A couple of hours later they made their way into the village were Derek grew up along with two others whose parents were also here on research. A blonde whirl shot past Stiles and slammed into Derek. It was Erica, one of Derek’s best friends.

“DEREK! You’re back!” she screamed as she held him all the tighter. Boyd came out of nowhere and gave Derek a pat on the back welcoming him home. Soon more of the villagers came out to greet them. Isaac, Erica’s brother came in last along with chief Wasimbu. Derek ran to hug the old chief.

“Wasimbu!”

“Little Derek Hale, how are you?”

Stiles watched as Derek had his reunion with the chief. After Derek went back to Erica, the chief walked up to Stiles and gave him a large smile.

“Tarzan. You look funny.”

And Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at that, he went in for a hug and greeting with a touch of their foreheads. It was good to see all of them and he knew Derek was going to be in his face about it.

“Chief Wasimbu, allow me to introduce Scott McCall, a man who wished to help around here.” Stiles said as he introduced Scott with a wave of his arm. The chief and Scott shook hands, after, the leader they were lead to a small mud house a little ways from the village. Derek went ahead going into the house with eagerness. Stiles followed after at a slower pace.

“This is where Derek grew up.”  Chief Wasimbu told Scott. Scott nodded with a smile, he couldn’t imagine how the man of the jungle came to meet his husband. He was sure he didn’t come waltzing in this home demanding Derek that’s for sure. Scott walked off to give the couple some space.

Stiles left his luggage at the entrance of the bedroom. The home was dusty and withered but by the look on Derek’s face it is like a brand new home. Derek was looking around to see what remained here. Stiles remembered Derek telling him that it was just his mother and older sister that were here. Mrs. Hale was a scientist from the states and she was dedicated to her research and thought to bring her children along. Stiles was thankful for that, otherwise he would have never met Derek. Stiles didn’t realize he was staring at Derek until said husband turned around with a smug look in his face. Stiles rolled his eyes and held his hands up in surrender before walking into the room to dust the bed off some. He felt arms go around his waist and Derek’s chin rest on his shoulder.

“You don’t know how good it feels to be right.”

“Oh yes of course you’re always right my king.”

That earned him a light hit to his chest, Derek chuckled in his ear before letting go. They began to arrange themselves as best they good but that was cut short in account to Erica, Boyd, and Isaac bursting in telling them there will be a small celebration for their return. As they walked towards the village center Boyd, Isaac, and Derek were ahead talking to themselves while Erica hung back with Stiles.

“It’s good to see you too monkey man.”

A smile grew on Stiles, “They are apes and you know that, not monkeys.”

“Yes of course sorry,” she was not sorry, “Tell me why did it take so long for you visit hm?”

“I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t know.”

They both looked at the males ahead of them who laughing like old times.

“He’ll be fine, you know that.”

Stiles didn’t answer but nodded, Erica looped her arm around his, “Let’s just celebrate for today.”

There was a great fire in the middle and a lot of song and dance. Laughter rang all around and not one gloomy face. Stiles was sitting down next to the village head and watched as Derek danced, his head thrown back in laughter. It warmed him inside that his husband was extremely happy. After another hour or so of celebrations, everyone gathered around the fire. Stiles remained where he was at originally and Derek took a seat a across from him to sit next to Scott. It was then that Stiles realized there were guards around in the dark he decided to ask the chief what it was all about.

The elder shrugged with a weary smiled, “There have been rumors of other villages getting attacked, and this is just precaution. Worry not about it.”

Stiles decided not to push further. The chatter and laughter died out as a woman starting to sing in her native tongue. Derek on the other side of the fire smiled and swayed slightly with the song as others joined in. He raised an eyebrow at Scott who was smiling like an idiot and probably had no clue what the song was about.

Derek leaned in to explain, “They are singing the legend of Tarzan. For many moons he was thought to be an evil spirit - a ghost in the trees. They speak of his power over the animals of the jungle. Because his spirit came from them. He understood them. And learned to conquer them. And learned to be as one with them. His ape mother, Kala, loved him as her own. And his ape brother, Akut, treated him with kindness and respect. He considered all men to be his enemies, since other tribes would hunt his troop as a rite of passage. Chief Wasimbu knew what he was. You must get him. Since no man ever started with less.”

Derek remembered when he first heard of Tarzan she thought nothing of it and certainly didn’t think of Stiles as a ghost. Ghosts didn’t exist. Some people were afraid of going into the jungle at any time of day. The day he met Tarzan, no Stiles, was the day he decided he wasn’t going to let him go. The song ended all too soon and everyone was beginning to disperse, except the guards of course. Derek saw his husband stay behind to say one last thing to the chief so he decided to go on ahead to the house. He really did miss this place and the family he had here. As he walked in the cool house he was making his way toward the bedroom but stopped when he heard an animal sound.

Derek smiled as the bird call was repeated, “Woodland Kingfisher,” he looked around,

“Mating call.”

He stepped away from the bedroom and looked around for his husband just as a low growling was heard, “Leopard, mating call.”

He never knew how Stiles could make those sounds. The first time Stiles made a leopard roar so close to him he thought he was going to be attacked. He punched Stiles in the face for giving him a fright. Chuckling a little he listened to the third animal.

“Crocodile, mating call.”

He turned to face the bedroom and walked until he stood right in front of the door frame. The final call was given and it sounded close.

“Mangani, mating call.”   Derek closed his eyes as he felt Stiles behind him. Stiles leaned close to take in Derek’s smell. Derek slowly turned and kissed Stiles. Both clinging to each other to devour one another. They kept kissing, entangling themselves together. The kiss wasn’t broken even after Stiles lifted Derek up to take him to the bed. Stiles broke the kiss momentarily, but that didn’t stop Derek who continued to pepper kisses wherever he could. Stiles removed both their shirts by ripping them off and any other clothing they had on.

Derek had handfuls of Stile’s long hair in his hand, gripping hard. Stiles made love to Derek, but this time it was at a place where they both knew in their hearts was home. The feelings of it all were intensified with the sounds of the jungle, calling out to them, calling out to him.

 

It was just before dawn and Stiles had his arms wrapped around a sleeping Derek when he heard the footsteps of strangers. The sound was that of feet in boots, the villagers wore no shoes, let alone boots. Scott was not one to sneak around he knew that much. He got up quickly sliding on pants that only reached his knees. He slid to the living room of the home and notice two men on outside the wooden porch. One went around to the back while the other was making his was to the side. Before the man could turn the corner, Stiles punched through the wall pulling the stranger inside and knocking him out with one punch. He walked quickly to the back and slammed an appearing hand down knocking the gun out of it. The intruder didn’t manage to make a sound as Stiles grabbed his head and slammed it to the wall. He walked to the room and saw that Derek was still asleep, he decided to take care of the problem without waking up Derek. He was making his way to Scott’s hut.

~~~~

Derek began to stir when he didn’t feel the warmth of Stiles. Getting up and dressing in khaki pants and a long white loose shirt, he went looking for his husband. He heard a sound in the living room and went to investigate. There was a lump on the floor that looked strange, as he stepped closer he saw it was a man, but before he could do anything at all a hand covered his mouth and more hands where holding him to tie him up. He struggled and he struggled hard.

“Let go!” he yelled at them, “I said let go!”

His hand were bound by rope and tethered to another. He was dragged out of the house and he noticed that there was a large group of mercenaries that were invading the village. He frantically searched around for Stiles but didn’t see him. Where could he have gone? Just as they reached the center village he saw a man he didn’t know standing in front of the village chief, while the villagers were surrounded by the invaders, some were standing ready to fight. The man was dressed sharply in white didn’t even look at her and continued to speak.

“Tell your men to stand down and kneel.”

Chief Wasimbu smiles and shakes his head, “A chief kneels to no one.”

Without another word the man shoots Wasimbu in the head and the screaming starts. Derek feels the sting of tears in his eyes. The men were about to start fighting when a wild yell broke through the chaos. It was Stiles running and bringing down any man who stood in his way.

“Stiles!” Derek shouted and again started to struggle but this time two men held him back, “STILES!”

Stiles was almost to him when a rope was caught around his neck, choking him back, and he ended up slamming into the ground. The air rushing out of his lungs helped the rope relieve him of oxygen. His blurry vision was locked on Derek, who was screaming and fighting to get to him. The rope was beginning to tighten even more, one hand was trying to pull the rope off and the other was reaching out to Derek. The man in white walked to where he was and look disappointed.

“Honestly I was expecting more from you Tarzan.”

Stiles stared at him in pure hatred as he was tied at his hands and feet. The rope around his neck was loosened but not by much. He was then tied to a thick branch and lifted, they were moving him like a slaughtered pig going to the spit to roast.Derek was in the front close to the man in white shouting and struggling to get to Stiles. The men ended up taking prisoners to a large ferry in the river. Boyd was among them but his wife and children were not. Stiles had a hard time swallowing since the rope would tightened every now and then. He was starting to feel light headed. Before they got to the ferry on the river, men were dropping like flies as Scott was shooting. He was probably the best shooter Stiles had ever seen. However, now that Scott had shown himself the men began to run. Derek was taken onto the boat first with the man leading the mercenaries. They men carrying Stiles didn’t get close as bullets cut through one of the men and that caused them to drop Stiles. The other man didn’t bother to go back for Stiles as he ran to get away from the bullets coming from both sides. 

Just as he was dropped the rope around his neck was starting to choke him again. This time the darkness at the edge of his vision was spreading quickly. He looked at Derek shouting for him as the ferry began to pull away from the bank. 

“Stiles!” Scott called but it sounded fuzzy to his ears.

The rope was suddenly gone thanks to Scott and he was taking in gulps of air in quickly but it was no use he was still losing consciousness. The last thing he heard was Derek shouting his name

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
> Leave kudos, comment, and subscribe!  
> Leave what you wish.  
> I know there will be mistakes so please excuse that!  
> Also if it sounds a bit rushed sorry for that too its 2AM.

**Author's Note:**

> I will continue this when I have time or when I don't have block haha.  
> But I really hope all who read like it!


End file.
